Destined to pay
by Harriet Specter
Summary: 'Regina wondered for a brief moment how it could be that no matter who was to blame, she always seemed to pay the price.' First fic, hopefully not last. Leave me a review, maybe? MULTICHAP as of now.
1. Regina

For a gut-wrenching, masochistic fraction of a second Regina imagined that this wasn't real – that it was not happening, not to her. She had a way of torturing herself like that, she always had. In her experience no one did that quite like her – not even her mother. But there was no way out of this, and when she looked back at the still twinkling light of Granny's where she had disappeared from just a moment ago, it all came rushing back to her. _Everything_.

The way his eyes would light up when he saw her. _Her_. His _wife_. How could she compete with that? She couldn't. He never looked at Regina like that. Or had he? Was hatred and resentment clouding her judgement already? She had to get out of there. The further the better, she thought and started to walk, needing to physically put distance between herself and everything that happened. Poofing herself back home wouldn't do it. She needed to walk. She needed to feel the space growing between them. And it hurt like hell with every single step, but maybe each one would hurt a little bit less – at least that's what she told herself.

She walked the empty streets, and they were empty alright. It ocurred to her that probably the whole town was at Granny's by now, celebrating. This was awfully familiar, she thought. All of them, there_. Together_. Her, all alone. She let out a humourless laugh. _Of course_. Her breath formed a lonely cloud as she let it out in a small huff. She drew her coat tighter on herself, but didn't bother to think about what it meant that she was this cold at this time of year. Had she been in her normally sharp state of mind she probably would have, but not today. Today there was nothing sharp about her mind, and it was more than just a little bit blurred around the edges. No, weather forecast was not on her agenda.

She started walking faster in an attempt to warm herself, but then stopped abruptly. She couldn't go home. That was the first place they would go to look for her. Another mirthless cackle. _Who would want to look for you?_ A moment of clarity. Henry. She closed her eyes in a moment of indecision, which soon turned out to be a huge mistake. Jigsaw puzzle-like images instantly flooded her mind. Faces. The moment she realised she didn't trust herself enough to be in that room, she unceremoniously disappeared in a purple puff of smoke, leaving everything to crumble down all on its own. She didn't need to be there for that. She winced. She didn't remember looking at their faces then, let alone seeing anything, but she saw them now. And she didn't like what she saw.

Everyone was watching their little display. Granny with unmasked curiosity that never faltered despite her old age – or because of it rather - and a bit of fear maybe? Charming looked absolutely dumbfounded, and she would have laughed had it been under different circumstances. She would've even commented on it. She didn't concern herself too much with it though, because knowing the prince, the next opportunity was right around the corner. Snow had that beaten puppy look about her that always seemed to follow her around these days. Regina often wandered where the old Snow disappeared to, the one who didn't need anyone's protection or approval. She wouldn't admit it to anyone, not even to herself, but she missed that girl. Which was ironic really, since it was probably her own doing that she would never see that girl – _woman_ – again. There was something else in her step-daughter's eyes that she couldn't quite place. And she had seen that look before – every time Regina seemed to be in pain, that look on Snow's face was her constant companion. She used to wonder what it meant, but she never understood it. What she did understand clear as day, however, was the pity that was etched onto the face of – well, everyone in the diner. Some tried to mask it, some didn't even bother like Hook, Belle and even Gold in the background. Or maybe they thought she wouldn't notice.

She didn't dare look in the direction of the happy couple, but she could've sworn that Robin was looking right at her the whole time. She didn't look at him _once_. She couldn't. There was no way she could keep it together had she looked at him. She did chance a small glance at the little boy, though. _Roland_. Immesurable warmth filled her at the mere thought of him. They had grown quite close in the last couple of weeks. She had taken to him just as he had taken to her. It was a special bond, and especially when it was the only one of the kind she had at the time. But he wasn't her son. Not anymore. A sharp pain washed through her at the possibility of never seeing him again, only from a distance. After all, _what mother in her right mind would let her son spend time with the Evil Queen?_ No, she couldn't think like that. She couldn't think about the maid for a second or her blood would boil.

It was anger, yes. But at who? She couldn't blame someone who was just brought back from the dead, could she? That would be pretty extreme even for her. No. But she could blame Emma. Emma who was looking at her much the same way as her mother, Regina realised as she delivered her last jab at the younger woman. Putting the blame on someone else was the only plausible solution she could think of at the moment. Regina wondered for a brief moment how it could be that no matter who was to blame, she always seemed to pay the price. _Love is weakness, Regina. I thought you knew that. _It was her mother's voice. It always has been. Still… how could she have been so naive? She wanted to throw up.

It was getting colder by the minute, but she was almost home now. That was what she thought to be the best course of action in case her son came looking for her. No one else would. Slowly, her house came into view, so she quickened her steps. Her big, empty house. Learning from her mistake earlier, she tried not to think of anything and resigned to keep her eyes open at all times. She put the key in the lock and turned it, then shut the door behind her, just as the thin layer of ice that has been following her all the way from Granny's reached her doorstep and thickened. Needless to say, in her hurry to get away from everything and everyone, Regina never noticed.


	2. Henry

**A/N: Hello everyone! First of all let me introduce myself properly, my name's Lizi and I honestly meant for this to be a one-shot, but it turns out I have more Regina/finale feels than expected. (WHAT?) Yeah, so stick around, maybe, and we'll see where this goes.**

**Oh and I read your reviews, thank you so much everyone! I'll try not to disappoint.**

* * *

The moment Regina disappeared from the diner in a style that was so uniquely hers, all hell broke loose. Emma, Robin and Snow all looked ready to jump and run after Regina, but her son's voice stopped them in their tracks.

"Wait!" Silence followed. Everyone's eyes were on Henry. "Let me," he said, then added in a softer, yet much sharper tone "No offense, but I don't think she wants to see any of you right now." With one last apologetic look back at Emma he was out the door.

He regretted his sudden and dramatic exit the minute he realised what kind of weather they were dealing with outside. That 'ugly-unseasonable-wool-atrocity' (his mother's words, not his) the Charmings had given him about a week ago was sounding better and better by the minute. The only problem was he left it inside – in his hurry to get to his mother's side. Scarf or no scarf, he braced himself against the cold andset out to find his mom, the sooner the better.

He just hoped he wasn't too late. He knew his mother had changed, but deep down you are just who you are, right? Right. But Regina wasn't always the Evil Queen. Evil has been a part of her name for so long that Henry had a sinking feeling that sometimes his mom forgot that at her core, she was anything but. Despite all the horrible things he's ever said to her, he really believed that to be true. And he believed in _her_. No, Henry wasn't worried about what _she_ would do, in light of the recent events. He was worried what _it_ might do to her.

* * *

"Mom?" No answer, but he did find two broken wine glasses - smashed to the wall, apparently - next to the fireplace. He would ask his mom about that later. But to him, at least, this was a sign that she was dealing. She was by no means okay, but at least now he knew for certain that she was going human-crazy, as opposed to magic-crazy, which was a collective sigh of relief to all residents of Storybrooke, he was sure.

He still had to find her, though. After all, that's why he was here. He knew that her coming back here meant that she was ready to face and accept at least the help of her son – if no one else. If she really wanted to disappear, he had no doubt that no one would be able to find her. Not even a certain thief and his oh-so-merry men.

He sighed. Against his better judgement, he still felt a bit of resentment rising up inside him towards the man. It wasn't that he didn't like Robin, (because _how_ can you not like Robin Hood? Right? Insane.) he actually really did. And for a brief moment there he really believed that this could be it for them. Robin and his son would have been a nice extension to his already extensive family. To say he was disappointed was an understatement. He couldn't even begin to imagine how his mom felt.

But after everything that's happened, he couldn't bear to see his mom get hurt. Not _again_. Not after how hard she's worked to earn his trust again - along with everyone else's - just to have it all be taken away from her in the end. The irony of it all was somehow lost on him. It just wasn't fair. _Life isn't fair_, Henry concluded.

"Mom?" He was really getting worried now. He could see from the top of the stairs that her bedroom door was open a crack, so he decided to check in there before getting used to the idea of orphan life. And life with the Charmings didn't sound too good of an option at the moment either. "Care to explain why I almost slipped on _ice_ when I came in the... Nevermind." Henry finished lamely from the doorway, and for a moment he wasn't sure what to do.

Her mom was huddled in a dozen blankets on the middle of her queen-sized bed, still in the same clothes she wore at the diner not an hour ago with tears streaming down her cheeks and smudging her perfectly applied makeup. But what concerned Henry the most was the utterly miserable, heartbreaking look on her face – or more importantly, the fact that she didn't even try to hide it from him. That was a rarity. Generally, he could tell when she wasn't happy or when something in particular was bothering her, because even though they didn't have the perfect mother-son relationship in the book, when you live with someone on a daily basis you learn things about them - even the things that they might not want you to know. So yes, he did know that her mom cried sometimes - however rarely those times occurred – and sometimes he even heard it, though very faintly, and he often wondered as he had before; just when it was that she had learned to cry without making any noise, and why. The main difference remains; she never let him see her like this before. Until today.

"Oh, Mom." Henry didn't wait for a response; he didn't want to give her a chance to push him away – even though he knew she wouldn't. He settled himself on the giant bed, as close to his mom's shaking form as he could manage, and waited. Slowly, Regina turned to face her son, and to Henry, it seemed like she was about to say something, but then she just hugged him to her and held on tight as if her life depended on it. And in a sense it had. Neither of them moved, and neither had a clue how much time has passed until Regina's sobs died down, and the only sound that could be heard in the room was Henry's steady heartbeat and Regina's quiet sniffles, as the former queen tried to calm her breaths. When Henry was on the brink of sleep – not quite asleep yet, but definitely not awake – he thought he heard her mom's muffled "Thank you" from somewhere on his left, followed by a kiss to the crown of his head. He _thought_, but he could've just imagined it.

* * *

"Pancakes okay?"

"Isn't it the other way around? Aren't _I_ the one who's supposed to take care of _you_?"

"Mom, pancakes?" He was not giving up.

"Yes please." She gave in with a sigh, and something that he could've sworn was the beginning of the faintest smile he's ever seen on her face. Operation 'Cheer-Up-Mom' was off to a… well, a start. Although his kitchen talents were somewhat, well, _lacking_, Henry took it upon himself to make breakfast for the two of them. The day's other activities would include some serious mother-son talk, cooking her mom's world famous lasagna together and – hopefully – a movie night with some pizza, even though it wasn't Friday. With New York, and everything else that's happened since, they still had a lot to catch up on, it's just that... now Henry would be the only one doing the talking, it seemed. But he didn't mind. He didn't mind one bit.

"And besides," he said, drawing her attention as he spoke, "I think you deserve a little break every once in a while." He hesitated only for a second before he added. "I love you, Mom. You know that, right?"

There it was, _finally_. A real, full-blown smile. Just for him. He missed those so much. Never really appreciated them before, and now he was afraid he'd never see one again. That's kind of how love works, Henry thought to himself. But it shouldn't be.

"I love you too, Henry. More than anything in the world," she raised her head high and added, "and I'll be damned if that isn't enough."

* * *

**I definitely have two more chapters in mind - they'll probably be up sometime this week while I still have a grasp on where I want this to go - but if you'd like to hear this story from someone else's point of view, then let me know and I'll see what I can do. Oh, and review 'cause I still have no idea what I'm doing. Please? :)**


	3. Snow

**A/N: Hi, I'm back! So this chapter might be a little different from the other two, but give it a try.**

**I didn't want to meddle in the Elsa-business any more than was necessary, but I didn't want to leave that part out either - see my problem? Anyway, there will be some more Elsa later on, but probably not how you'd expect(?) We'll see.**

**Just to clarify, this is still an Outlaw Queen story, but I did sneak in a tiny bit of Swan Queen into this chapter. If you squint. Maybe. Probably. (I just couldn't leave them hanging the way they were in the finale, my little heart couldn't take it.)**

**For those of you who are still with me, thank you, I hope you enjoy it, I really do. **

**Feedback is always appreciated. Thanksss.**

* * *

"Regina, it's been two weeks!" Snow exclaimed.

"Has it -" Regina tried to protest, but it was short-lived.

"Yes, and we need to get you out of here."

"_We?_" the brunette raised one eyebrow quizically. "When did we become a _we_? Has it really been _that_ long?" Knowing Regina as she did, she supposed it was probably meant as a sarcastic comeback, but her comments were undoubtedly lacking their usual edge these days, and Snow couldn't help the smile that was forming on her lips at the worried expression on the other woman's face.

They have, in fact, been spending more time with one another in the past two weeks, than ever before – save for her childhood, of course – as far as Snow could remember.

Despite the irony of the situation, Snow couldn't help the ache she felt for Regina. And it wasn't hard to put herself in the other woman's shoes either. Although the pain of seeing David with an other woman – and a wife no less – was thank Goodness, no more but a distant memory in her mind, she knew that the loss she felt in heart – albeit unconsciously – was just as real for her then, as it was for Regina right now. So she tried her best to be there for her, in any way she could.

Regina was quite reluctant at first, as expected, but despite her continuous death threats regarding the entire Charming family, something told Snow that her step-mother couldn't be more thankful for the company, if not for her input. That, it seemed, wasn't required. What else is new?

"What I meant was," she said carefully "you can't hide forever."

"I'm not -"

"Hiding. Right." The ringing of Snow's phone momentarily saved Regina from further interrogation. "We're not done here." Snow narrowed her eyes at the older woman in an attempt to intimidate her into surrender. A very unladylike snort was the former queen's only response.

* * *

"Emma, slow down!","I'm at Regina's","Well, could you tell me what happened, first?"

Regina sighed, and went back to sipping her tea absentmindedly, as she listened to one side of the conversation and tried to decipher the other. It was about that Ice Queen. Elsa, was it? The one who was supposed to be responsible for this horrid weather. Although, if she was being entirely honest with herself, Regina didn't mind the ice as much as the others seemed to. The cold suited her mood as well as her personality, she thought bitterly.

Any other day and she probably would've been the first in line to figure out who this mysterious woman was, and how her powers worked because she's never seen anything like it before; but after the defeat and eventual loss of her half-sister, her last remaining blood-relative - though Regina started to wonder if these things even meant anything to her anymore, as the only person she's ever truly considered her family wasn't even related to her by blood – and to top it off with everything else that's happened with… the thief, she was, understandably, more than a little drained herself. Magically, and emotionally as well.

So after days of convincing and reassuring on the Charmings' end, Regina finally gave in and allowed herself a few days off, in the company of her favourite old movies and her favourite son, and let the others handle this one. The few days soon turned into a week, which turned to two, apparently, and that brings her back here, to this very moment, with Snow standing in the middle of her living room, hands in the air and an unbelieving look on her face. "Emma, this is no joking matter!" The corner of Regina's mouth twitched slightly upwards, before she managed to catch herself.

She still hasn't completely forgiven the dutiful Saviour for her most recent saving, but she was no longer fuming with rage about it either. What _was_ the point anyway? It wouldn't change anything, just as her malicious personal vendetta against Snow didn't bring Daniel back to her either. What's done is done, she thought to herself. She could blame the blonde woman all she wanted – _she had_ – but it wouldn't help.

They would by no means be best friends who braid each other's hair and go shopping together every other weekend, and it's going to take some time before Regina offers her teaching services to Emma again, but she gave her word to Henry that she would at least try to coexist with his other mother for the time being. For everyone's sake. After all, her son and his Charming family were all she had now – quite ironically – and she would not lose them too. So no, killing Emma wasn't an option. On the other hand, Regina was in dire need of a fresh set of problem solving skills. The kind that didn't involve murder. Well, that was certainly something to think about. But maybe not right now.

"Either way, we need to find her before she hurts anyone, including herself! Think about it, Emma, she might not be able to control her powers, or even worse – she might not even be aware of them!" Regina thought about that for a second. Not too likely, in her experience, but what if there was some truth to what Snow was saying?

"Actually, you might be right," Snow turned to her with a curious look on her face, "when it comes to people with natural magical ability who are untrained or unaware of their powers, experiencing strong emotions _can_ lead to, say, a certain loss of control, that has the potential to result in a number of things. Because when emotions take control, there is no stopping them. It can be dangerous, but it can also save your life." She took a deep breath "Just like with you… Emma. At the bridge, for example."

"So," Snow looked at Regina, probably asking for permission, who nodded, took the phone from the other woman's hands and lifted it to her own ear so she could hear Emma speaking to her, "you're saying she's like me?" the uncharacteristically tentative voice ringed through the receiver. "In what way?"

"She's inexperienced," Regina answered, not missing a beat, her tone perhaps a little bit sharper than it was necessary, "and probably scared too," she added in a softer voice.

"So we should just talk to her then? Ask her what she wants?"

"Actually, Miss Swan," the formality was supposed to be another way of punishing Emma – who, if she was hurt by it, didn't give any indication, but it was hard to tell anyway – as well as keeping herself in check with the reality of the situation, "I'm not entirely sure that coming here was her intention at all. Of course, we're gonna have to ask her about that ourselves."

One glance at Snow's infuriatingly cheerful expression from the corner of her eyes told Regina that she had made a mistake, even before Emma's childishly hopeful voice reached her ears. "_We_?" Was that a hint of cockiness she detected in the younger woman's tone? Not for long.

"Goodbye, _Miss Swan_." Even as she hung up the phone, she could practically see Emma's signature grin spreading across her face before her very eyes.

* * *

"That went better than expected, don't you think?" Snow asked Regina as they were walking down the street towards Granny's diner. The spontaneous town-hall meeting – held without the knowledge of half the town, so technically it couldn't be called that – was a moderate success. They managed to determine that while Elsa wasn't entirely harmless, she wasn't on a mission to destroy anyone either. What a relief. Her only danger lay in the unpredictability of her mysterious powers.

"Well what did you expect?"

"Honestly, I don't know. Not this. So Gold has a history with Elsa." But not a dangerous one. At least, that's what he's told them anyway. "I wonder what the story is with those two."

"I don't care as long as it doesn't affect Henry." Regina opened the door to Granny's and looked around, in search of a table "I don't trust that man."

"Neither do I, but he said he'd handle it."

As they sat down, Snow glanced around anxiously. This wasn't the first time that Regina ventured out into the public, and usually everything played out without incident so far, but the younger woman had a feeling that today would be _the day_. People couldn't avoid each other forever, not in a town like Storybrooke. She was surprised they'd even lasted this long.

Not to mention that due to the sudden change in the weather, a certain recently reunited family was forced to find a way of a more permanent living arrangement, one that happened to be right here at Granny's. How convenient.

Snow cursed her intuition when a moment later she turned out to be just right, as a a small head of brown, unruly curls slowly appeared around the corner. Followed by the bigger version. The hair was just as untamed, though. Snow cocked her head to the side. _I guess I can see the appeal_.

"Yeah, I'm sure he's gonna _handle it_ out of the park, in fact, that's exactly what I'm afraid of– " Regina trailed off as she took in the scene before her, her gaze instantly falling upon the child at first, and not the father. Never the father.

Luckily, the little boy didn't seem to notice anything as he skipped past everyone in the diner, completely oblivious to the two pair of eyes intently watching him, from opposite ends of the room. One with an openly adoring gaze, and the other with a sorrow so deep etched onto her face that it would've made anyone silent. Snow noticed though, and even if she felt the need to look away for a moment, she simply couldn't. She was transfixed. She watched with wide-eyed anticipation as their gazes finally found one another in a flurry of swiveling, uninvited emotions bubbling up to the surface. Rich brown met deep blue so effortlessly, as if the sole purpose of their existence was to blend into each other for all eternity. And Snow supposed it was. Or it could've just been her overly romantic nature asserting itself, but either way, the result was the same.

Snow has noticed it before, – but it struck her that she's never seen it with this intesity – that whenever those two looked at each other, it felt as if time has stopped for a second or two before the wheels clicked into motion again, and everything started anew. Not for Regina and Robin, though. They seemed completely oblivious to the world around them, existing – if only for this moment – out of time and space, where nothing dared to stand in their way, and no one ever tried anyway. It must be nice, if such a place existed. Snow doubted it.

She shook her head then, effectively rendering herself out of her stupor, and scolding herself for losing sight of the task at hand. They might not realise it, but the world itself didn't stop turning and Snow should probably be figuring out a way to get Regina out of there before she remembers herself and breaks something. Like a lamp. Or a bone.

The moment – or whatever it was that just transpired – came to an abrupt end with the sound of a door closing, and a woman appearing behind her husband. Snow looked at Regina who averted her gaze immediately and never looked up again, until the ringing of the bell signaled the family's exit.

* * *

**Definitely more than one chapter left.**


	4. Robin

**AN: Hello again!**

**This one is less 'action-packed' if that makes sense, but more of a thoughts and feelings kinda thing. I imagine Robin has quite a bit of _stuff_ to figure out now, so this is about his conflicting emotions and the internal battle he's undoubtedly having with himself as we speak.**

**Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

Robin Hood was a gentleman.

The fact that the general law didn't always agree with him – which made him a _wanted criminal_ throughout the realm during his years in the Enchanted Forest, well… never mind all that. He considered himself to be a man with a strong moral compass, who always went out of his way to do the right thing – or more accurately, what _he_ thought was right – for which he was widely admired as well as respected in his circles. But either way, his beliefs were his own and they had nothing to do with the way he treated women.

In a word: with _care_. Recognising – and appreciating – the beauty and grace with which the members of the fairer sex carried themselves was one thing, underestimating their strength and aptitude in any given situation was quite another. There was a reason he never made that mistake, and he genuinely pitied any man who ever has.

He wasn't in the business of entertaining grand romantic ideals of destiny and The One. He was dreamy, yes, but he made a point of drawing a line between fantasy and reality. Having a strong grasp on his present was sometimes the only way to ensure that he had a future. However, he always imagined that if he ever _did_ marry, it would be out of love, and to a woman he would consider his equal partner in every aspect of their shared life. And he had been _so_ fortunate.

His wife was amazing. His Marian. The mother of his son. And the woman he loved, with all of his heart, and with a certainty that comes but once in a lifetime… well, she was_ also amazing_.

What now?

* * *

As Robin emerged from the bathroom – even though he wouldn't admit it to anyone, sometimes he still missed the forest with its quiet tranquillity, but admittedly from a practical standpoint, a shower was much more sufficient than a lake, so he would have to adapt – he could already hear the ringing laughter echoing through the hall.

He stood in the doorway, content to merely watch, as mother and son got lost in the game they were playing, smiles plastered across their faces as if left by a permanent marker. It was such a familiar scene, and yet, he was struck by the strangeness of it all. He didn't feel included; it was as if he were watching his own life unfold before him, but through someone else's eyes.

He tried to shake this feeling, whatever it was, but he knew it would be back eventually. Ever since his wife has been back in their lives – all wonder and smiles, and a voice that was sharper than he remembered, or was it the hair that was shorter? – something just didn't sit right with him. There was this feeling in the pit of his stomach every time he looked at her, right where the butterflies should have been, and _were,_ once. Of course, he figured it out in the end. It didn't take a rocket scientist, just a touch of honesty.

Marian was the same as she's ever been. She hasn't changed one bit. How could she have? She was brought into this world from the past. _His_ past. One they used to share – together.

And they had a good life. It wasn't perfect, he knows that now, – the idyllic picture his mind conjured up for him is more a product of grief than anything else and he shouldn't have expected it to be more than that, it's not fair to her, not fair to any of them, but he can't help himself – definitely not perfect, but it was _good_. And he loved her.

At that moment, as if feeling his eyes on her, she looks up at him. She smiles at him, just like she used to, and he loves her. And for a brief moment it's just like the picture in his mind.

But it can't be. _He_ _let her go_. He'd been to hell and back, and there was not a single day when he didn't regret losing her, when he didn't feel the pain and grief of it all in every cell of his body. It was an excruciatingly long and hard journey, but he managed to come out on the other side – bruised and battered, but alive. The truth was harsh, but simple. He wasn't the same person she fell in love with anymore. Losing her had changed him. There was a time when she was his _life_. But he had a whole new life now, and she didn't fit into it, not the way she had before. He had _moved on_.

Looking at his wife and son, Robin acknowledged and swallowed his conclusions, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on his family. _His family_. The child had been through so much already, despite his young age, the woman even more. Life didn't spare them of their fair share of misfortunes, that was for sure.

Robin promised himself that he wouldn't break their hearts as well.

* * *

After seeing Regina at Granny's two things became quite clear to Robin.

Number one: he wasn't alone in his feelings for her. Which was a relief, really. Despite reaching the conclusion that he was irrevocably in love with this extraordinary woman, he still had reasonable doubts about whether or not she might feel the same way.

One look into that familiar pair of brown eyes, and he had his answer. It always was the eyes with Regina. She had a remarkable control over the rest of her face, which was a neat trick and worked on anyone who didn't know any better. But the thing about Regina was, that try as she might, her eyes always seemed to give her away, sooner rather than later. He had never seen such expressive eyes before. He had heard the phrase 'the eyes are the window to the soul' a thousand times, and he thought he knew exactly what that meant. He didn't. Not until he met Regina.

A wave of fresh sorrow washed over him at the memories of their most recent encounter. Between the sudden and unexpected return of his wife and figuring out how to deal with the Ice Queen, he almost managed to forget how much he missed her, every single day. Almost. Now, her absence hit him in the face like a solid wall of bricks. The longing he felt for her squeezed his heart with an intensity that was bordering on ridiculous, but was definitely past the point of being physically painful.

He sighed. His feelings for Regina were a force to be reckoned with, just like the woman herself. How fitting. He wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms again, – for it was exactly where she belonged – run his hands through her beautiful hair, look into those eyes and soothe away the pain that was so clearly reflected in them. Nothing else mattered. Regina was hurting. And it was _his_ fault.

Ah, right. Number two: He would not be able to keep his promise.


	5. Marian

**AN: Thank you so so so much for the reviews, they keep me motivated!**

**One of you gave me a couple of ideas that I tried to work into the story in a way that still fits my notion of where I wanted this to go, and well, this is what happened.**

**Favourite lines? :)**

* * *

He was staying out late – again – doing God-knows-what. Thinking. Walking. Helping. Wherever his services were required. Anywhere, but with her. He was spending an awful lot of time away from her, and she wondered if he knew exactly how obvious he was, or if he even cared at all. He always had a perfect excuse, of course, but still. Marian was no fool.

She knew her husband, Robin Hood, the man she was sharing her life and a son with – a son she barely knew, that is. Who barely knew _her_. Who still looked at her with an uncertainty in his big, brown eyes that tugged at her heartstrings, and not in a good way. Who called her 'Mama' but whose voice lacked conviction every single time he did. Who looked at her as if he expected to see someone else instead.

But Robin; _her_ Robin, she knew that man like the back of her hand.

_This man_, however, was someone she no longer recognised. Oh but how _desperately_ she wanted to. It made her heart burn with a fire inside that she thought was long since gone, and caused her eyes to water, glistening with unshed tears – but she wouldn't let them fall. Marian was many things, but she was a woman most of all. Loving. Kind. Passionate. Headstrong. Vain… perhaps – but who isn't? _Honest_, yes. And clever.

So of course she's noticed the very apparent changes in the man she once called hers, but no longer dared to – not even in her own mind, for he was clearly _not_. She was very acutely aware that this man wasn't _her_ Robin anymore. He was as polite and gentle as ever, and he looked at her as if he couldn't believe she was there. As though he still expected her to vanish at any given moment, even after all these weeks. She reckoned that was to be expected. But that didn't ease her mind nor her discomfort. And, she supposed, she could've simply put it down to the initial shock of her return, disbelief or even fear of losing her again, but she was tired of pretending. She knew it was more than that, call it a woman's instinct or whatever you will, but she could've sworn that there was something else there. Something _big_.

Admitting that to herself wasn't easy, but the idea of confronting him about it was outright petrifying. Not for fear that she might be right, but because of knowing exactly just how right she was.

That and everything between them seemed so fragile, so delicate, like a unique flower, or a bubble, a perfectly impossible conundrum that was too precious to die, too beautiful to live – and yet, it could be so easily destroyed with just the lightest of touches, bursting into nothingness as if it never even existed in the first place. Yes, she was afraid; one wrong move and everything would come crashing down and she would be forever buried under the rubble. Gone in a flash, forgotten, never to return – just as she was supposed to be, apparently.

What she didn't bear to admit, not even to herself, however, was that this man, was not only simply _not hers_ anymore – he was _someone else's_. His heart – that beautiful, generous, loving heart – didn't beat for he anymore, as it already belonged to someone else. Perhaps it always had.

Marian was restless. She wished him to return to her side soon, or she would not be able to sleep at all that night. She had already put Roland to bed, lightly touching her lips to his forehead, just like she used to, humming him an old lullaby that he loved so much when he was just a babe. But he had grown so much since, and she missed it, she missed it all. He wouldn't quiet, not without his father, thrashing and turning and repeating the same word over and over again. That was all he would say to her "Papa, papa", and she stayed with him until he had no breath left in him, and sleep took him at last. She let one tear escape as she turned her back to the small, blanket-covered little boy.

She looked out the window of their temporary apartment and sought out the crescent moon shining overhead in a sea of darkness. She sighed in resignation, or desperation – she didn't know and didn't care to find out.

Nothing felt right in this strange new world, even the things, and people, she used to know, now so unfamiliar – she felt like an island. She felt like the sole survivor of a shipwreck, that was still afloat, but slowly sinking, sinking, sinking, pushing her towards her destiny. The only thing to look forward to was failure. The sharks were coming for her. And there was absolutely _nothing_ she could do.

* * *

"Where have you been?"

"I assisted in trying to track down the Ice Queen." He sounded tired, but not in a physical way, although, she supposed he must've been, after having been away for an entire day. "No luck so far, she's very clever it seems. Or afraid."

"But isn't that _her_ job?" she asked, the irritation clearly showing in her voice, as she completely ignored the second part of what he just said. Clearly, her interests lay elsewhere. "The Queen's?" It took her a great effort to swallow the 'Evil' moniker, and even then she couldn't hide her discomfort, despite having been the one to bring the name up in the first place. When Robin had told her "she prefers Regina" it made her skin crawl. She didn't understand what in the world possessed him to act the way he did when it came to that woman.

There were a lot of things about her that didn't sit well with Marian, no matter what anyone seemed to think or say about her now. The words 'redemption', 'changed' and 'light magic' didn't mean anything to her, they were just words after all. The very real memories of the things she had done were all too fresh in her mind to just look past them and take someone else's word for it. Even if that someone happened to be her husband. She needed proof.

"She was busy. They needed me."

She couldn't help herself, and the words were out of her mouth before she could take them back. "But I need you too." An intense wave of shame washed over her. This was a new low, but it was all she had at the moment. Her feelings were the same, and they would be there whether she tried to hide them or not.

"I'm sorry." And he was. He seemed genuinely torn – guilty. Good, at least she wasn't the only one suffering. But this needed to end; they couldn't carry on like this. They needed to come to terms with each other – out of respect for Roland, and their old life, if nothing else. They didn't deserve this, none of them did.

"Robin," she decided to be the bold one, because she knew he respected her too much to make that first move, "what are we doing?"

He looked taken aback at the directness of her question, but he answered truthfully, as she knew he would. "I honestly don't know." Then, after a beat. "But we're family. We'll get through this, togeth –"

"Please, don't say anything you don't mean. Please. I have so little left in this world, but honesty is one thing I refuse to let go of. Let me have that, at least." He hesitated only a second before nodding his consent. "Tell me about her. The _her_ that's constantly on your mind, even if you don't want to admit it," she almost looked like her old self for a second, so tender, so kind, every bit the woman he fell in love with, what seemed like a thousand lifetimes ago "Robin, _I know_. Of course I know. The wife always knows."

He started to protest. "We haven't – I would never –" "I know."

The silence in the room was suffocating. The air was heavy with regret, the weight of their words settling over them, like a blanket of confessions, mutual understanding and everything that was yet to be spoken, and probably never would be. Until he couldn't take it anymore.

"She's stubborn, you know, just like you." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, deliberately. "Strong." A beat. "Good with children." He had a funny look on his face when he talked about her, as if he had just told a joke only he could understand, or as if a song was playing that only he knew the lyrics to.

She didn't understand poetry, and the so-called 'finer things in life' didn't do much for her either, but the look on his face made her wonder what she was missing out on. She could tell he had a lot more to say, but she also knew he wouldn't, out of consideration for her. To _spare her feelings_. A little too late for that, she thought.

There was one last question on her mind, but she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer. She wasn't sure if it was a truth that she could live with. It occurred to her that maybe, she already knew. She was probably opening her mouth to ask, when a loud – at least in the silence of the room it was – unfamiliar noise interrupted her. A mobile phone, they were called, if she remembered correctly.

Robin lifted the strange little metal object to his ear and answered. She heard a distinct male voice from the other end of the line – it must be the Prince, she thought to herself – but he was talking so fast she couldn't understand a thing.

What caught her attention, however, was the way Robin's face changed in an instant after receiving a piece of news that was obviously incredibly alarming to him. Well, she was guessing, anyway. She watched his face intently, which is the only reason she managed to catch the expression flashing across his features – it was one of worry, but so intense that it made her own blood run cold. She had to reassure herself that Roland was alright, despite knowing exactly that he was only down the hall, sleeping peacefully in his room.

Then it dawned on her, the realisation slowly spreading through her every molecule, from her toes to the top of her head. So this is what it felt like, _to know_.

Robin only looked at her for half a second before storming outside, seeming somehow to be able to move at the speed of light, leaving only a single sentence in his wake.

"It's _Regina_."

* * *

**One more and an epilogue.**


	6. Elsa

**AN: Hello beautiful people!**

**This is the final chapter before the epilogue, but you're gonna have to wait for that until the weekend because I'm going camping tomorrow.**

**Let me know what you think, you have no idea how happy it makes me to read your opinions.**

* * *

Elsa couldn't believe this was happening to her. Again.

What a miserable waste of space she was. What is the point of these powers if you can't control them? What is the point of _her_? She scolded herself immediately; what would Anna say if she heard you thinking like that, she thought. Oh, she missed her sister now more than ever. She would've given anything to be back in Arendelle like none of this ever happened.

But something had brought her here, against her will and curiosity got the better of her. This strange land intrigued her and she wanted to know more. She'd always been fascinated by the idea of another world, always hungry for knowledge, always wanting to know more, and this was the price she was paying. Or rather… well, she was not the one paying the price, was she?

Elsa knelt down, and looked at the form before her. Motionless. A perfect statue, even though the ice couldn't have reached every corner of her body just yet. There was still time, just not much of it.

She wondered, not for the first time, who this woman was. She must be well acquainted with magic herself, if her offer was any indication. Elsa cursed herself for letting this happen. She should've just worn the gloves, but she doubted that would've stopped this from happening. The first person in a long time who's willing to help her, and she freezes her heart. Unintentionally, of course, but the result was very much the same.

But she was beautiful, she had to give her that, even in this state. Her features, hardened by so much more than just ice, looked like they were carved by the very best. There was a sharpness about her that would have intimidated Elsa had the woman been awake. There was something about her that Elsa couldn't quite place, but she was intrigued by it nonetheless. She had a sudden urge to get to know her. She wondered if they were anything alike. Probably not.

There was something regal about her, and Elsa wondered if she was a queen herself, though she doubted they had queens in this land. Still, even lying on the ground, she looked more high and mighty than Elsa ever would. She was graceful, yes, but she was also strong. Elsa could tell her body was doing everything to fight the Ice Queen's magic. But she couldn't save herself, not from this.

Elsa hung her head. She didn't even know her _name_. Or anything much else about her, really, but she hoped against hope that there was someone out there who loved her. Really, truly loved her. Because at the rate the ice was spreading under her skin – and it terrified Elsa beyond measure, the speed with which the creamy skin was disappearing, turning to pale blue instead, a sickeningly _dead_ colour – there was only one person who had the power to reverse the process. Not that Elsa believed in soulmates, but even the _possibility_ was better than the knowledge that she failed her. She _had to_ wake up.

This was the final thing running through Elsa's mind before the world faded out and everything went black.

* * *

"Did you really have to handcuff her? Knocking her out wasn't enough for you?" Elsa heard an unfamiliar voice; it was a woman's. She tried to open her eyes, but the memory of the blow to her head was still making her see more stars than she's ever imagined even existed.

"She's dangerous." Now this was a voice she did know. _Rumpelstiltskin_. She shivered as she remembered the man who was too afraid of her to help her. So he locked her away. Quite convenient. She managed to escape, of course, but she never came back to this land, and she never intended to. And yet here she was, causing a commotion again, as that seemed to be her style. What a mess. "There's your proof, right there. That's why I got rid of her in the first place, but you two, you just had to go and bring her back –"

Elsa finally managed to crack one eye open, as she attempted to take in her surroundings. Her head was still buzzing and her ears ringing, so she barely registered the words around her, she only heard their voices.

"Enough of the games, Gold, I'm not in the mood! What did you even do to her?"

She was on the ground and she was indeed handcuffed – well, she couldn't object, it was probably better this way. They weren't too tight anyway, and probably wouldn't stand a chance against the ice, but if it made them relax around her then so be it. She wasn't here to harm anyone, she really wasn't. She didn't even know how she got here in the first place. Of course, no one asked her anything so far, in fact, they looked like they've completely forgotten she was even there. They were too wrapped up in arguing about who was to blame, apparently. Didn't they realise that wouldn't help _her_?

_She_ was still on the ground too, but Elsa couldn't see her face from the small crowd towering over her, as they tried to figure out what the best course of action would be – she was hoping. And while they were at it, she was finally able to locate the source of each voice, and the people that belonged to them.

Then there was the woman whose voice she first heard, arguing with Rumpelstiltskin. She was blonde and wore a red leather jacket – an interesting, but brave choice, Elsa concluded – and she seemed to be some kind of an authority figure, at least the others seemed to take orders from her, though what she signified exactly was not entirely clear to the Ice Queen. Next to her stood a silly-looking man, who seemed to agree with her at every turn. But Elsa doubted that _he_ had any authority here, not with that outfit anyway. "Anyone ever wonder why these things only ever happen to Regina?" He probably meant it as a joke, but it fell flat and all he got were disapproving glares. Very well. But who was Regina?

There was a couple in the background, and behind them, more and more townspeople had lined up to see the spectacle. News travels fast in a small town like this. They were keeping their distance, though. Understandable.

"Do something!" One of the women exclaimed, Elsa couldn't tell whose voice it was in the crowd.

"What do you suggest, dearie?" Rumplestiltskin.

Elsa couldn't take it any longer. "True Love." Her clear voice rang through the town square. She had their attention now.

"She's awake!" The blonde again. "Who are you and what have you done to Regina?"

So _she_ was Regina. The name suited her, Elsa mused, it suited her quite well. And it was a name for a queen, just as she had thought.

"I- I'm so sorry. She tried to help me and I- I didn't mean it. My powers, I don't always know how to control them." "No kidding." It was the man, the _pirate_, the costume was pretty hard to miss, though the hook was a little bit too much for Elsa's taste. She didn't understand these people.

The only one she felt any kind of connection to was still unconscious, and it was all her fault. "I think –" Elsa struggled to get the words out "What?" "I think I struck her heart."

"Oh no." The woman in the back whispered – the woman from the couple – and her tone told Elsa she knew exactly what that meant, or maybe even more than that. She looked at the short, brown haired woman, who seemed to be a figure of authority, despite her tender and fragile looking features.

She was standing next to a man who seemed to be her husband judging by their hands and his protective posture, but Elsa was merely guessing of course. "What does that even mean?" The blonde woman asked with a hint of annoyance in her voice. She was not the patient kind, that one. "And how do we cure it?"

"You can't," Elsa answered quietly, guilt washing over her, "only one person can."

"And who might that be?" The pirate prodded.

"Her soulmate." Silence. The sound of someone pushing through the crowd.

"Oh, I wonder who that is," another voice, dripping with sarcasm – as far as Elsa could tell – joined the little group gathered around the woman – _Regina_. She looked like… a fairy? No, that can't be, she had no wings. And what did she know about Regina's True Love? Elsa was seriously getting a headache.

"Don't look at me like that, we all know it's true." The pixie woman shook her head and added, "and besides – he's our only option right now." Questioning looks. A small nod. The man excused himself from the crowd and took a few steps further, taking something out of his jacket pocket – what was that shiny little box? And why was he talking into it, was he mad? Just as well.

"But didn't you say True Love?" It was the brunette again, with the short hair, and she was looking directly at her for a second before turning back to the others, but in those few seconds when she looked into her eyes, Elsa saw the fear so clearly reflected in them, and it made her wonder about the nature of the relationship this woman shared with Regina.

"Maybe we should call Henry as well, you know… just in case." _In case what_? Who was Henry? "He's with Ruby right?" _Who_? The blonde woman nodded. "I mean who knows what they're doing, but… with everything that's happened between… you know… I just don't think we can afford to take that chance." Lost didn't even begin to cover how Elsa felt. The others, however, seemed to understand everything perfectly.

The brunette hurried away, but not before looking back and throwing one sentence over her shoulder. "I'll go tell David." _Great. You do that._

* * *

"_Regina?_" Elsa's head whipped up at the agony in the man's voice, and what she saw in his eyes only confirmed her suspicions. It was _him_ – Robin Hood, as she found out later. Regina's _soulmate_. "Please, tell me I'm not too late, I got here as fast as I could, where is she?"

It's now or never, Elsa thought, as they all watched in silence as the man walked to the still unmoving form and lowered himself onto the ground next to her, taking her in his arms witch such care and tenderness that it drew gasps from the crowd, but he didn't seem to care about anything or anyone else – no one but _her_.

Elsa didn't know much about these people, but she was surprised at the apprehension she herself felt. Of course the guilt was eating her alive, but it was more than that. Somehow she found herself unable to look away, to take her eyes off the scene unfolding before her for a single moment, lest she miss anything. And she wasn't the only one.

The crowd was only growing, and Elsa noticed a few people she hadn't seen before. Two people had just arrived the exact same moment she lifted her gaze in the direction of the crowd: a young girl, with long brown hair, she had quite a pretty face, but Elsa had to look away instantly at the severe lack of clothes covering the young woman. Or _not_ covering, would've been a better way of putting it. How _improper_! Her hands were on the shoulder of a young boy, – he couldn't have been older than fourteen, – holding him back from, well, Elsa didn't know what he was going to do, but he didn't get the chance to do it. He didn't take his eyes off the couple on the ground for one second, though, his anxiety crystal clear, even from the distance.

She also noticed a long, brown-haired woman with an indescribable expression on her face, and a little boy, with curly brown hair, standing to the side, in the place separating the small group of people from the rest of the town. As if they themselves weren't sure where they belonged. She could relate to that, at least.

Her attention was drawn back to Regina, and the man currently holding her in his arms, whispering something in her ear – they were too far away for her to hear what it was, and she supposed it was between the two of them anyway – when she felt something in the air change.

It was very subtle, like a light breeze or the falling of a leaf, but it was there, and it could only mean one thing. It was _working_!

Slowly, but surely, the colour returned to Regina's limbs – starting with the hand that the man was holding, and he didn't look like he wanted to let go, not for anything – then the rest of her, and finally to her cheeks too. Elsa let out a sigh of relief. She wasn't out of the woods yet, but it was definitely a first step.

As Regina's eyes slowly fluttered open, the Ice Queen took the opportunity to look at the couple more closely this time. _An act of true love_. And what a love it must be. They didn't even kiss; all he did was hold her.

"Robin?" She sounded so surprised, it was endearing.

"You're all right, thank the Gods!" He clutched her to his chest even harder. Elsa thought it must hurt to be crushed against him like that, but Regina didn't seem to mind.

"How – ?"

"I love you."

"But – "

"I love you so much."

He cradled her face in his hands, and looked at her like he was seeing her for the first time.

"But your wife – " "She'll understand." "I – " He put a finger on her lips, to stop her from talking. A tear made it's way down her cheek and he wiped it away with his thumb.

"You said it yourself, Regina, you and I – we're destined to be together. It's as simple as that. I'm sorry it took me this long to realise that."

So it was true, after all. Soulmates _did_ exist. Not everything is about deception, they're not all out to get you, Elsa thought to herself, some things are just what they are. Real. True. She wanted to believe that more than anything. But experience taught her to look at the world with a critical eye, to see things realistically, to never trust blindly, because there's only one person you can always, always count on – _yourself_. Now, however, as she watched the two lose themselves in a kiss, and in each other, she thought to herself: _to hell with that_.


	7. Epilogue

**AN: Here it is, the very last chapter. I hope you enjoy this, and thanks for sticking with me.**

**And especially thanks for all the reviews. Really.**

* * *

_Epilogue_

The sun was setting over a small town in Maine, the very last ray of sunshine hitting the small picnic area where most of the townspeople were sitting – having a celebration of sorts, it would seem – as if, in a last effort, trying to warm them all before it disappeared completely behind the hills, leaving only an orange coloured sky.

It looks as though painted with a talented brush of a long lost painter, or one yet to be discovered – a masterpiece if there ever was one. The colours blending together to make the most exquisite combination, deep purple tinted with just a hint of pink bleeding out at the edges, but mostly orange. A most magnificent colour as far as sunsets go, and not much further. But a warm colour nonetheless. And most importantly: a happy one.

Late summer leaves were already turning to colours of autumn, with only a slight chill in the evening air to announce the changing of seasons. And yet, it seemed more like a beginning than an end. A last chapter in the old story, that's been told through centuries, but also the beginning of one that is yet to be written, or told.

It was over a year ago that the Ice Queen had been sent back to her own kingdom, more or less a peaceful affair, thus ending the impromptu winter, to the great joy and relief of the residents of Storybrooke, Maine. But not before – with the help of Regina – Elsa finally learned to control her powers, for which she was eternally grateful to the former queen. Friendship was a strong word, but they definitely had themselves a new ally, and that never hurt. They made their apologies, said their goodbyes and that was that.

The Charmings, believe it or not, found yet another way to expand the family business – as a bitter old man with a cane had put it once, albeit jokingly – with a brand new member of their family on the way. Yes, _again_. Their happiness couldn't have been more prominent, and, according to them, it called for a celebratory picnic in the park. As it were, the townspeople would welcome the newest Charming baby with open arms, and with no apparent threat made to the family's life so far in the present time, they were all basking in the glory of all that was yet to come – _together_.

Everyone was there. Even Marian, who – for obvious reasons – found it more than just a little difficult to fit in and engage at first, but who was just as much a part of the town's life by now as anyone else, constantly fussing around Snow, Prince Neal, and the new baby just like everyone else.

The sounds of laughter, and the clinking of glasses carried through the wind and could be heard even from the smaller hill – just a little left of the bigger one – where a small family was quietly enjoying an evening out. They were close enough to the rest of the town to signify a sense of belonging and gratitude, for they were _indeed_ a part of it, in the grand scheme of things, but also far enough to express their need for privacy, and well, distance.

A man and a woman were lying on the red and white checkered blanket, that the woman thought was quite cliché, but she let them take it anyway. "It's like a scene out of a movie," she'd said and he'd laughed. Maybe it was.

Regina was half asleep, lying on top of Robin, her head and one hand on his chest, the other intertwined with his on that damned blanket of theirs. He had an arm around her waist to keep her there, but longed to moved it to her beautiful dark hair, that was longer now than he'd ever seen it, at least in this land. He loved the silky feel of it when he ran his hand through it, but what he loved even more was the fact that she listened to him, and let it grow. He sighed, and settled on pulling her even closer to him, gathering her in his arms, much the same way he had when her life was hanging by a thread and he had almost lost her, and just like he has every other time after that. Some memories never leave us, and for him, this was one of those.

That's when he felt her stir, trying to stretch out her no doubt tired limbs, but at the same time never breaking contact with him. They were funny that way. Always touching, even in the smallest ways possible, like a hand on a shoulder, or under the dinner table, refusing to let go, even after all this time, as if there was a power in this world, or any other that could ever separate them.

She lifted her head and gave him a reassuring smile, probably knowing exactly what was running through his mind, as per usual. She lifted her hand from his chest and put it on his left cheek as a hello.

"Hey." She whispered hoarsely, her voice exhausted from sleep and contentment. His answering smile shined brighter than all the stars in the sky combined. "Hey yourself."

He took her hand in his and kissed her palm, and then the simple silver band that adorned her ring finger. It was one of his many habits he developed around her, not only because he could, but also because he just couldn't help himself. Not that she seemed to mind. Not at all.

"How long –" a yawn, "how long was I asleep?" "An hour, maybe. You looked so peaceful, I couldn't wake you." She smiles at him faintly, but looks away in search of something, or someone, and panic instantly fills her eyes, when she doesn't find it.

"They're fine," he reassures her immediately, squeezing her hand, and pointing in the direction of the valley, where two children are playing, completely unaware of the quieting world around them. "And Henry's over there, with the Charmings," he runs his thumb over her knuckles in abstract patterns, willing her worries away, as well as his own, and it seems to be working. They always did better together. "Everything's fine, Regina. _We're_ fine."

He pulled them up into a sitting position, drawing her into his arms once again, as they turned to look at the now not-so-small boy and the little girl, one a constant surprise and joy; the other: simply a _miracle_.

And not only because she looked exactly like Regina, almost a miniature sculpture of her mother, the resemblance truly uncanny, from the tips of her toes to the shiny, tiny little dark hairs at the top of her one year old head. Except for the colour of her eyes, though they were just as expressive as her mothers' and even bigger, their colour had a distinct green shade; _forest-green_, if you will.

In spite of her already apparent beauty, the most extraordinary part of her was hidden, though not that deep down. She was an angelic little girl, full of delight and wonder. She had a light shining in her that was enough to keep the whole town illuminated even at Christmas time. Regina was in constant awe of her daughter, even after all this time. She didn't understand how any child of hers could be so… _good_.

He never voiced his opinion on the matter, at least not to _her_, but Robin wasn't surprised at all, since he knew where such a light would come from. Of course he knew. He saw it every day, next to him in his bed, in his arms, and in his heart, whenever he looked at his wife, and he intended to keep seeing it, until he couldn't see any more.

He had always wanted a daughter – that was his secret – but the reality exceeded even his wildest imaginations, and as for expectations, well, he learned to give those up long ago. Maybe it was time to remedy that, he thought to himself, as he looked at the woman in his arms. His _soulmate_. All his dreams were coming true, and it was all because of _her_.

"No." She said suddenly, in a low voice that was supposed to sound dangerous, but he learned a while ago to look out when she used _that_ particular tone of voice – the one that meant he was in trouble – and this was not even close. "No, we're not fine," the mischievous glint in her eyes told him she was up to no good, and he had to admit, he quite liked that about her, maybe more than he should. But at this point, he just didn't give a damn.

"We're _amazing_."


End file.
